A/N: Written for my friend.
Prompt: 'Earring"
Warnings: implied smut, hints of non-con
He sits silent and still at a window, squinting through harsh light to view the wandering, busy-bodies bumping around down far below him.
He's alone in the empty dusty room but he knows he's not free and that he won't be left alone for long. That's why he stares out the window, hidden from the world, and waits, away from the bed, for his captor to return.
His fingers twitch, a new habit acquired recently, and he longs to move his arm up to touch what has been weighing heavily on his mind. The thing that makes him feel cemented in the chair, though it weighs nothing at all, and makes his head tilt to the side while viewing the world lopsided.
As always, his hand finds the smooth cool metal before his mind acknowledges the move. He twirls it through his fingers, spins it over round the man-made hole, and gets so distracted with his fiddle-fumbling touches that it's not long before pain spikes through his mind as brutal tugs start burning.
He remembers vaguely how he got this new addition to his person; remembers ghosting touch and breathy moans that spark shame and lust together at once.
Lying sprawled across the bed, panting to regain lost breath, he had tensed in surprise when strong lean muscles suddenly slid on top his sweaty back to keep him pinned flat on the bed
His heart had flutteredin his throat, fear and anticipation growing while fingers graced light across his neck, and had released his sigh of breath when those fingers drifted up to tangle his curls.
Squirming under the suffocating weight, he had wanted to jerk away his head as it was tilted to the side; curiosity made him still when warm fingers caressed the flesh of his ear.
"What are you doing?" His voice a mere whisper in the silent night, confused by the odd tingling touch before hefelt his ear begin to freeze forcing his gasp.
"Shh!" Soothingly said to still his heart but cast it skittering instead, he was afraid of what was happening to his precious ear—could imagine the mangled aftermath—and fought to keep whimpers quiet while his captor continued working
There was no prick, no stab of pain, but he felt the metal slide in past his skin and the new feeling made him shift just slightly under the unrelenting hold
"Almost done," He was reassured, never calmed.
His hand wasn't allowed to search the change, not right away, once the job was done. He was rolled over roughly onto his back, hands pinned above his head, while his lips devoured so thoroughly again by his captors renewed lust.
He found out later that he had been given an earring
A single gold hoop imbedded with jewels, so smoothly melt together that removal was impossible—more binding than a collar, more marking than a bruising bite upon his flesh, the sight of it , glinting at him from the window's glass, left him feeling more securely trapped than when folded in his captor's arms.
"You shouldn't play with it." A dark voice slithers, startlingly, down his spine and sends his arm dropping like a brick.
Smooth lips press firm against his throat, hot tongue lapping to taste at gathering sweat-salt, before teeth rise up to tug briefly at hard metal with a breathy chuckle.
"You'll infect it if you keep tugging," A soft warning kissed upon his brow before he's tugged up away from the windowed-world and forced to enter once more into the shelter of those dark, sex-smelling bed sheets.